


Call me Ishmael

by SB_Ryan



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Gen, collectibles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SB_Ryan/pseuds/SB_Ryan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the Pittsburgh Water Treatment Plant, told through the eyes of a survivor and through the collectibles they left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Collectible: Faith's Diary

**Scrap of paper found in the Pittsburgh Water Treatment Plant:**

_May (probably) ; no idea of the exact year anymore:_

_I was eight when the world ended._

_My name is Faith Moonchild Ayers and whilst I should hate my parents for cursing me with such a frivolous name; I can't. Mainly because they are mostly likely long-since dead – either from the 'ceps infection or from being eaten alive – and I was brought up not to speak ill of the departed._

_I am an outcast here; born and raised in England and trapped in this godforsaken country for the past seven years by this bloody infection and collapse of reliable infrastructure that could get me home._

_You know what…this is a sodding waste of time, paper and ink._

_I really don't see how Ish thought this would help with my 'anger issues'._

_Fuck it! I am so going to ram this down his throat until he chokes!_

_Yours faithfully (and well aware of the irony),_

_Faith_


	2. 5 Years after C-Day

The almost-absolute silence of the still morning was shattered by cursing; a lot of cursing. A small boat bobbed uncertainly as it drifted from underneath the ruins of the bridge.

"Goddamn crappy put-put." A small figure was hunched over the motor, yanking on the cord that should have restarted the engine. The girl, who looked to be no older than nine or ten, sat back and huffed in irritation. She was going to severely wound and probably slightlymaim that bloody engineer when she got back into the city. Cooper had promised her that he had tested the motor and that the boat would definitely get her from the Pittsburgh dock, all the way out to the large ships still anchored out of reach. She tried to start the engine one more time; the motor coughed, sputtered and then died with a most spectacular death rattle. Something went cronk and fell out of the engine housing and promptly sank to the bottom of the river. 

The boat lurched as the current took hold of it and started to pick up speed. For a while it looked as though the current would sweep the boat directly toward the closest ship and the girl grinned as she settled her leather backpack more securely in place. The river, was not going to be kind however, and the current began to drag the boat back toward the rocks she had hoped to avoid.

"Fuck it." She stood and dived into the water, paddling hard to stay afloat and away from those boulders. The fiberglass boat's hull shattered as it struck the rocks and the girl swam for the shore. Five minutes later the girl heaved herself onto the silty shore and tried to catch her breath. She felt the familiar unwelcome flutter in her chest and she held her breath until the dizzy feeling passed. Her hands shook as she pulled a small bottle out of a zippered pocket; she twisted the cap off and swallowed a mouthful of the bitter liquid. She rolled onto her side and pushed her long brown hair off her face.

_'Not only am I going to kill Cooper; I swear I will have my vengeance on his unborn children as well! I'm cold, I'm wet AND now I have to get back to the right side of the city by myself.'_ "Fan-fucking-tastic".

A blinking light on the far side of the river caught her attention 'FTH-R-U-OK-CPR', she translated the code aloud, "Faith, are you okay? Cooper." 

She unclipped the green, military-style torch from her backpack's strap and flashed a message back, 'CPR-UR-DED-FTH'. 

'BG-BRO-TK-UR-TYM-TURIST-C-ZON' "Big Brother says take your time; tourist season."

Faith sighed and signalled back that the message had been seen and understood. Whilst she knew what that meant; it didn't mean she liked it. Faith stood and brushed herself down as best she could. At least this meant she had time to explore this side of the river for once. She squelched around a bend and saw a beached fishing trawler. She clapped her hands together quietly – this was the size boat she had been searching for; one that was sturdy enough for the open ocean. Faith hoped that it was repairable; or even better, still working. She crept up to the hull, listening carefully for any signs of Infected in the area. She pressed an ear against the blue-painted wood and could only hear the sound of running water.

She scrambled up the rusted ladder onto the deck, to her left was the wheelhouse and to her right was a huge hole in the deck, which showed the lobster pots and nets below, Faith sighed; it was worse than just a hole, she could see the sandy surface of the beach as well. The hull had been completely ripped open. She carefully opened the door to the wheelhouse, nothing jumped or fell out at her so she crept inside the dim interior. Considering the damage done to the superstructure of the boat, the bridge looked remarkably untouched. Faith took a few more steps into the wheelhouse and saw a cream-coloured coffee mug was weighting down a scrap of paper. 

She moved the empty cup and read the note: _Well… it's looking like I've dodged the chaos and the mayhem long enough. My time out at sea is coming to an end. I'm short on supplies and this boat has seen better days. And you know what…this was bound to happen sooner or later. I guess it's time to go see what's left of mankind. What could possibly go wrong, right? If you happen to find my skeleton, please don't step on my skull. Thanks. Ish_

Faith put the paper back and giggled, _'At least he had a sense of humour.'_

Seeing as there wasn't anything else worth salvaging from the doomed vessel, she wandered back onto the deck and jumped down the opposite side of the boat. _'If I want to dry my stuff out; I need to get to higher ground; or at least somewhere more in the sunshine.'_

Faith found herself following an outlet stream back up the beach and around some rocks; she was so absorbed in following the little stream, that she didn't see the man sat up on a ledge above her.

"Um. Hello?"

Faith shrieked and spun around fumbling for her revolver. 

"Woah kid. Calm down; I'm not armed. See?" he slowly held up his hands, palms outward in the universal sign of 'please don't shoot me'. 

Faith didn't lower her weapon, she knew that nothing in this world could be taken at face value anymore; not even skinny guys who looked like they'd disappear if they turned sideways on. She narrowed her eyes at him, "Who are you? What are you doing way out here? How many of you are there – I warn you; I'm not on my own!" 

The olive-skinned man smiled reassuringly; or at least tried to smile, "My name is Ish. There's only me here; I was about to go fishing. That's all." 

Faith finally lowered her gun, but kept her finger on the trigger guard; just in case, "Call you Ishmael huh?"

"Pretty much. Can I uh put my hands down now?" when she nodded, he offered her a hand, "Now it's your turn; what's your name?" 

"Faith."

"That's a funny accent you have there kid; you're not local are you?" When Faith grudgingly accepted his hand, he helped haul her up to the ledge where he had been sitting. True to his word, he only seemed to have a dented metal bucket, a fishing pole and a net bag. Satisfied that this oddly scary child wasn't going to shoot him in the immediate future, Ish began to collect his things together to make room for her. "I know it's probably none of my business; but why are you soaking wet? I mean I can't imagine this is the latest line of apocalyptic swimwear this season." 

"You're right. It _is_ none of your business." Faith took the opportunity to observe him surreptitiously, whilst she claimed the far corner of the ledge. He was older than her, but looked younger than both Cooper and Big Brother. He would probably be short if he stood up too; she squinted her hazel eyes, he'd most likely be about 5'10"; she'd be very surprised if he hit 6 feet. "I found your note." 

Faith unbuckled her backpack and started to spread her belongings out to dry in the sunshine. "I promise not to tread on your skull." She smiled and laughed at his expression of surprise and relief. 

Ish threw his head back and laughed with her. "Well thank you I guess!" he rubbed a hand through his messy black hair, "So how long until those friends of yours turn up? I have to warn you now that I'm not great with strangers." 

"I lied." She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head sideways on her knees, "I was making up my mind as to whether to trust you." She regarded him with a solemn look. "You're right you know; I'm not American. I was over here on holiday when the infection began. I've been trying to get out to one of those big boats ever since; today's attempt was wonderfully terrible and thus my impromptu swim. 

"I had hoped that your boat would have been enough to get me going. Beer?" she pulled two brown bottles out of her bag and waved one at him.

"Aren't you a little young?"

"I'm older than you think, old man." She twisted off the cap and swallowed a mouthful of the mostly-flat brew. "Believe it or not, I'm almost 14." 

Ish watched her as she sipped her drink, this tiny girl seemed to be much better suited to this world than he did. He was almost 23 and he felt out of his depth ever since he had come to shore a week or so ago. She was dressed in baggy khaki cargo pants, too-large t-shirt and a grey windbreaker and seemed to exude a calm grace he was hard-pressed to believe still existed in this world where everything and everyone was out to get you. It felt like the hours flew by as they simply enjoyed the peace and Ish was startled when the girl beside him spoke again. "Right. I should be going back to the city now." she chucked most of her belongings haphazardly back into her bag, "Tell you what Mr Ish; I'll do you a trade. I'll leave you the rest of the beers and half the tinned sardines if you promise me you won't follow me to the city; it's not safe there for people like you." almost on cue; a gunshot echoed across the bay. She hopped down from the ledge, "Good luck Yank." He handed her backpack down to her and waved, "Good luck to you too, kid."


	3. Joel and Ellie Hit the Beach

**15 years later:**

Joel groaned, he was getting too old for this shit. Ellie was wandering off with that Sam kid again without a care in the world and he knew it would only end in tears.

He had to admit that she was a brave one though; jumping off the bridge eve though she couldn't swim. Brave, or stupidly reckless. Days like today, Joel couldn't decide which was more fitting.

Ellie had crouched next to the wreck of a small rowboat and was picking through the wreckage, "Look Joel; bandages!" She rolled them up and threw the roll at the still damp and grumpy Texan. Joel caught the rags and stowed them in his own pack. He knew she'd be keeping space in her smaller backpack in case she found something interesting, but with no practical value, like those joke books or photos.

The others ran on ahead; past a large boulder that blocked their view of the city on the right. 'Good riddance.' Joel thought to himself, 'We got lucky.' he was still mad that Henry had abandoned him and Ellie to the bandits but he could understand. He would have done the same thing not too long ago.

Joel ducked under a log that had gotten wedged between two of the boulders and jogged across the sand to catch up with the others who had stopped by the wreck of a fishing boat. Henry and Sam walked up the path to the left and Ellie went around the boat, walking toward a much smaller boat in the near distance.

He pulled himself up onto the deck; although there had been no signs of Infected or hunters, Joel knew he wouldn't feel comfortable until he'd replaced the supplies they had used or lost during their escape from the city. There was a metal door sealing off the bridge to the left and a gaping hole that must once have been the deck. Joel shouldered open the hatch and absently brushed off the white flakes of peeling paint that stuck to his shirt sleeve.

He caught a glimpse of something shiny and eagerly grabbed the half pair of scissors and deftly tied it to the end of the lead pipe he'd taken from one of the hunters who had been dumb enough to try and take him on single-handed. Joel made a second, more thorough sweep of the console area of the bridge and found another of Ellie's comics, "Hey Ellie, found another of them comics you been looking for." he walked out of the bridge and dropped down into what once was the boat's hold. Another sparkle caught his eye and he walked over to the stacked lobster pots and huffed in disappointment, it was only one of those Firefly tags.

"Hey Joel! Come quick!"

At Ellie's shout, Joel charged out of the hole on the far side of the hull, revolver in hand. He skidded to a halt when it became clear she wasn't in immediate danger. She frowned at him, "Calm down Gramps; I just wanted to show you what I found in the boat over there." she held out a mostly-pristine baseball bat. The teen swung it a few times and Joel smiled in spite of his irritation.

"When we stop for a while, I'll show you how to use one of those properly." he handed her the comic from the bridge, "Come on, let's go see what those two are up to." Joel walked off in the direction the others took, Ellie jogged to keep up with her long-legged protector of sorts.

She pulled herself up onto the ledge with the others. The boys were discussing a grate embedded in the wall and Sam was hovering nearby; trying to offer help. Ellie sat down and opened the comic Joel had found. A piece of paper fluttered out of the comic and Ellie tried to catch it. It evaded her grasp and landed close to a desiccated corpse.

It saddened Ellie briefly that this life had made death so commonplace that you stopped noticing them at all. Curiosity overruled her musing at that point. The corpse was holding a bottle, and it looked as though there was a piece of paper rolled up inside it. She pried the bottle out of the corpse's hands and saw it had a set of military tags, almost completely rusted over, but she thought she could make out a few letters 'Coo'.

Ellie glanced back at the others; they were still 'debating' so she picked up both bits of paper and began to read.

 

_Faith,_

_Big Brother sent me to look for you. We're sorry we couldn't protect you. I left the hunters to come and find you._

_I took a backpack full of tools when I left and I want to help to get you out of here. The guard on the gate won't let me in 'cus I used to be one of the guys. I left him this note and my tags to give to you. If you want to find me; I'll be in the 'burbs._

_Please forgive us._

_Cooper._


	4. 5 years, 6 months after C-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate the end of hospital stays, I'll be celebrating with updating one of my current works in progress :)
> 
> Today I'll return to the shenanigans of Faith and co. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

This time Faith was 100% sure the boat she and Cooper had worked on for almost 6 months now would work.

Jesse Cooper had been a field engineer with the army before the end came and when the quarantine zone fell, the leader of the bandits hadn't executed him so he could maintain their small supply of vehicles and guns.

Over time; once it was clear the hyperactive youngster wasn't interested in the politics of the survivors, the leader took Cooper under his wing.

Faith stood on the lowest rung of the workbench and handed the redheaded engineer a tiny screwdriver. "Coop, why are you fiddling with that radio? The networks went down years ago."

Jesse frowned; "Well we might be able to get that tower out beyond the suburbs working. The range would probably only cover the city, but you could test it when you get out to one of those boats finally."

Faith elbowed him, "You just don't want to admit you'll miss me!"

"Pfft" he rolled his eyes at her, "I'd miss you alright; at least with you around I get to babysit. The most fun thing I've had to do since becoming your nanny is taking you on a med run to get you your SVT stuff."

The teen stuck her tongue out at him and flounced off to the other side of the garage.

"Seriously though Faith, you know I would be a dead man if I ever let anything happen to you." Cooper was engrossed in his work and didn't look up while he was talking to her, "And not just because the Big Man himself has promised me a slow and painful death by Clicker. You're different. I suppose it's because you were a kid when this all started and well you're fun." he paused and tapped the screwdriver against his chin, "Violent and scary; but fun."

"Take that back!" Faith pouted and threw a washer at him, "I am not violent!"

\---

Two weeks later Faith and Cooper were doing their final checks of the boat now bobbing beside the pilings of the bridge.

"Before we do this Coop, do we have a backup?" Faith looked doubtfully at the rusty engine.

Cooper shrugged; "Not really. The only other boats you could handle on your own are pretty messed up." He ruffled her hair, "So don't sink this one eh."

Faith batted his hand away, "Get stuffed gay boy." Cooper chuckled and scooped the girl up and dumped her, squealing, into the dinghy. "As long as you avoid those big things called 'rocks' and get to those floating metal things called 'boats' and come home safely."

Faith flipped him the bird and steered the boat into deeper water. She was ready for the pull of the current this time and angled the boat so it would miss the boulders that had destroyed her last vessel.

As her boat passed the rocks, she breathed a sigh of relief. The smug sense of satisfaction fled quickly once she felt the frigid river water seeping into her boots. "Shit!" The patch over a hole in the side of the boat was coming loose.

She gauged the distance to the closest boat. "I could probably make it; but would the boat still be here to get me back?" The hull patch wobbled, "Probably not."

Faith looked back toward the dock she had started from, "Can I make it back?"

A jet of water spurted from the join, she sighed, "Probably not."

She reluctantly turned for the closest bank and hoped the patch would hold. Faith was decidedly unimpressed. Whilst this boat hadn't exactly sunk, she still had wet feet and had to try and drag the boat back.

Faith climbed out of the boat and kicked it. Cooper had given her some rope and she tied it to the boat...perhaps she could get some of the boys to help drag it back.

She had spent so long isolated from the harshest reality of the Infected she had gotten complacent.

Faith was mooching along the beach pulling the dinghy behind her when a screech came from the side, a Runner screamed and ran toward her. "Frick."

Faith dropped the blue nylon rope and started to run. The damp sand sucked at her boots, slowing her down. She didn't dare look behind her, she could hear the breathing of the creature coming closer.

As she sprinted down the straight stretch of beach toward a tumble of boulders and logs she felt her heart rate pick up. She swore mentally; if she had an attack now, she would definitely die.

She tried to control her breathing but Faith was panicking. She saw a blue boat; the ledge!

She screamed as fingers clawed at her hair. Greyness hazed the edges of her vision.

Fuck.

Her knees buckled and she fell to the sand.

The last thought she remembered was ' _Please don't let it hurt.'_


	5. In which Ellie is bored and finds a note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally rejoin our heroes!

"Ellie!" Joel called, not for the first time.

Ellie refolded the letter and tucked it back into the comic. It seemed like he'd probably tried to get her attention for a while. It wasn't her fault she was naturally nosy.

Henry and Joel pulled up the gate barring the entry to the Pittsburgh Water Treatment Plant. The rusted hinges squealed as the two men pulled. Sam ducked under the gap first; Ellie wrinkled her nose, she still wasn't keen on climbing into a sewer, no matter how long it hadn't been 'used'.

The grille slammed shut behind them and Ellie jumped when Joel put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on kiddo, let's get moving." Ellie switched on her torch and reluctantly jumped into the calf-deep water.

She groaned, "This is not cool. There's things floating in here Joel. Not. Cool."

The oldest member of the group chuckled, "Twenty years of rainfall would have flushed the system out a long time ago." Joel pulled himself up into a tunnel and splashed up the slope, "Besides, it would prob'ly just be rats." he smiled as her muffled squeal drifted up the overflow.

The tunnel only led to a dead end, Joel waded through the water, to double check; nada. He slid back down the overflow.

Henry looked at him, "Any luck?" Joel shook his head. "Okay, me and Sam will go this way," Henry pointed down the left-hand fork of the tunnel, "You and Ellie check the other side."

Joel took the lead and waded through the water as quietly as he could, always listening for the telltale sounds of Infected. After a few feet, the outflow pipe ended and Joel hopped up onto the concrete of the main system's complex of rooms.

He turned to help Ellie up; she was still in a mood with him and ignored his hand. Ellie wandered the room, playing her torch's beam over the walls whilst Joel attempted to get into one of the maintenance rooms. It looked like the door securing the chain-link 'wall' had been barred by something.

"Hey Joel! I think I could fit through this grate; it looks like the other end comes out in that room."

Joel reluctantly gave in; although he could see the room was a dead end; someone had once stayed there for some time as he could see supplies and sheets of paper.

He prised open the grille at floor level and Ellie crawled through. "See if one of those scraps is a map of this place. I want to get out of here soon; something doesn't feel right."

Ellie rolled her eyes; no Infected could get through in through the way they had, but she yanked the lead pipe out of the door handles to let the big grouch in.

She knew that whatever supplies she got would be wrong; too heavy, too far out of date; he didn't like pineapples. Yadda yadda yadda.

The big dope was rummaging through a box of bits and pieces and Ellie decided to gather up the scraps of paper to see if there was anything helpful. She sat on the bottom concrete step and sifted through them.

Blank.

Half an envelope.

Water-damaged.

Ooh jackpot - this one was a letter!

Ellie, unable to resist to lure of a good story, discarded the rest of the papers and started to read.


	6. Faith's birthday surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up - this chapter deals with some nasty realities of the consequences of living with killers in the apocalypse.

Faith felt sick.

Her chest hurt and it took a moment to remember why. _'I was running. Running from something...Fuck! Runners!'_

She tried to move, but couldn't. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt.

_'Don't panic Ayers. Remember what you read in that survival handbook - panic will kill you. Stop and think.'_

She repeated the mantra in her head while she tried to make sense of what had happened and where she was.

Was this what it was like to be Infected?

Are they aware, but unable to do anything but what the motherfucking fungus wants?

Faith listened; she could hear running water nearby - not really that helpful as she was living on a city by a river.

The air smelled like wet concrete and she thought she heard someone or something moving close by.

Possibly human, definitely not a Clicker though.

Faith tried to open her eyes, but could only see blackness. _'Shit! Maybe I'm a Clicker now!_ ' Her hands flew to her face, she felt wet cloth beneath her fingertips.

 _'Okay. Weird, but a giant relief that I don't have a mushroom growing out of my face._ ' She peeled the wet cloth off of her face and opened her eyes.

It was almost as dark with them open as it had been when she was unconscious. Faith groaned and let her head roll to one side; she had the mother of all headaches and even the dim glow of the lantern on the far side of the room sent spikes of agony through her head.

 _'Shit. Someone had to light that lantern - I'm not in one of our hidey holes so it wasn't one of the boys that rescued me. Shit, shit, shit.'_ Faith's eyes darted around the little room. It looked like a maintenance room of sorts, there was a chainlink fence across from her and shelves filled with paint pots and odds and sods.

She tried to sit up again and realised she was lying on a mattress that was placed at the top of a small set of concrete steps, "No sign of whoever brought me here though - slightly worrying. No sign of Infected - incredibly reassuring." her voice echoed slightly and Faith cursed as the noise from beyond her eye level stopped.

She patted her legs and the many pockets of her cargo trousers. Her trusty knife was gone; as was her medication. When a head popped up by the railing, she shrieked and attempted to scooch backward.

"Easy does it kid." When Faith's head stopped spinning, she eventually recognised the man standing by the stairs.

"I was sure you'd have been eaten by now." Faith tried to smile, but winced instead when her heart fluttered again. "

Well, I guess not. Although you nearly were." He rested his forearms on the rusted railing and leaned forward, "Lucky for you, I was out getting water when I saw you being chased by that Runner."

Ish stopped and looked at the girl, "What happened out there? You just fell down...playing dead works with bears, not with Infected." He joked in an effort to put her at her ease, but that clearly wasn't working.

Faith put a hand to her chest, "I still haven't managed to get a working boat yet." She was trying to control her breathing, "Ishmael, my dear man - you didn't happen to see a small bottle out there did you?"

"I did - what is Nexterone?" he fished the bottle out of his windbreaker's pocket and held it out.

The girl grabbed it, took a sip of the liquid inside, and grimaced, "Ugh."

Once Faith had triple-checked that the bottle was back in its specific pocket, she started to talk. "It's medicine for a problem I have. I've been sick even before I was born..." she stopped when Ishmael sat on the top step; he handed her a bowl filled with preserved peaches; he held up the can and handed her a fork.

"I like to eat when I hear stories. There's enough for two."

Faith took the bowl and sighed, "I have a problem with the little doohickey in my heart that keeps it regular. If I get scared or do too much excercise it just gets faster and faster." She took a mouthful of peach, it wasn't great but better than she'd expected from 5 year old preserves, "I think my best score was 316 bpm. The doc said I'm one of 0.1% of the population that suffers from this thing. Lucky me."

Faith shrugged and rested the chipped bowl on her lap, "I've got a life expectancy of 16 if I'm lucky. Kinda ironic that I was the one to survive this long."

Ish put down the can, "So the Nexathing works like a brake to keep it in check? That's fascinating." He picked up a notepad and started scribbling.

"What are you doing?" Faith, feeling braver now she'd eaten, and hadn't been eaten; leaned over.

He laughed and put down the stub of pencil. "Sorry, I studied journalism at university instead of following my father's demand to join his fishing company."

He put the notebook down and stood, brushing off the dust off his trousers. "I'm just going to see if the Infected have gone, you should be getting back."

The short young man picked up a short-barrelled shotgun and jogged out of sight. Faith picked up the notepad and flicked through it, she chuckled at a few of the entries. He would have been wasted as a fisherman.

When she got to the loose letters at the bottom, Faith had decided that maybe, with people like Ish still keeping going, the world wasn't entirely awful after all.

_I'm gone for a few months and the world doesn't waste any time going to shit._

_Everywhere you turn there're infected - and non-infected – trying to kill you. Mankind is back to the food chain baby! I'm kind of shocked I've survived this long. These sewers seem pretty safe. Limited exits/entrances make it easier to defend, and if anyone gets in here, I can lose them in the maze._

_I might not be tough, but I am quick. Maybe I just need to bide my time down here until it all gets sorted up there._

_I think I'll become a sewer mole-man for a while._

_Wish me luck._

_Ish_

Faith smiled, ' _You have to love a man who knows how to use dashes correctly.'_

When Ish came back, she couldn't help herself. "Mole-man? Seriously?"

Ish grinned, "Well...maybe." He sobered as he sat down beside her, "Bad news on the Infected front though. They're still at the grille and there's a few at the backup maintenance tunnel I use sometimes. It's getting dark too, I think it would be best if you stayed here - no funny business I swear!" he held his hands up, "I'll even cook us dinner, something better than canned peaches too."

Faith eyed the twenty-something year old with amusement. Compared to the world of the 'kill or be killed' survivors; this unexpected dinner was a haven of manners and decent conversation.

"It would be nice not to cook for once. Very well Mr Barnabus, I accept your offer of dinner." Later, once the plates had been put away and more lamps had been lit to keep away the growing shadows, Faith was huddled under a blanket listening to her rescuer tell her what seemed like everything that had ever happened to him.

It was strange, they were discussing books they had read before the fungus ruined everything and Faith realised she had missed decent people.

She couldn't place when it had happened exactly, but she wondered when the desperate struggle for survival had changed her views on life.

When had life become so stark that a simple talk about classic literature with a friend became an unexpected luxury?

Faith was still pondering that as she fell asleep. Ish watched the girl sleep, he knew she wouldn't stay longer than it took for the Infected to clear off, but like Faith he was realising that he needed company. You need people to stop you from going a bit odd. He knew that now. Perhaps, once she was safely back home, he would see if there were others nearby.

Maybe tomorrow he would turn right and go deeper into the tunnels. Maybe. ...

 

Two days later:

Faith sighed irritably - she'd been 'home' for almost two days now and she was going crackers. Big Brother was suffocating in his attention; making sure that she was alright; that she hadn't been bitten; and on, and on.

Jesse was almost as bad, but she knew that most of that was probably due to being yelled at for two days straight.

Now she was back in the kitchen of a cafe the boys had cleared out for her. "At least Ish only had to cook for one." she muttered as she opened another rusty can of tomatoes.

Cooking for almost twenty men only on whatever could be scavenged or shot would have been hard enough before C-Day; let alone now when you never knew when the supplies would run out.

The pot of tomatoey, random vegetably, mystery meaty chili simmered on the gas cooker. _'We'll need another canister soon.'_ Faith scowled, the confines of this existence were beginning to grate on her nerves.

Big Brother said that the ever-present bodyguard was for her protection, but she couldn't imagine him letting the patrols let Infected this far into their base.

Jesse popped his head through the door, and promptly left again - he knew that look from old. Now would not be the best time to ask for a favour.

Faith was handy enough with a knife as it was and wouldn't need to be in her 'birthday eve' bad mood to try and stab someone with it.

That night, Faith lay in her bunk and wished that her mother was there. She didn't even have a photo of her; every year, when she tried to recall her, the details were a little less clear and Faith was furious at herself for forgetting.

She had recognised the smell first. Even now, after the world as she knew it had ended, hospitals still had that smell. The smell of antiseptic and despair.

Faith knew she was an odd child. Her mother called her special; but Faith knew the truth. There was a reason they had to keep coming into towns to find medicine. Medicine to keep her alive.

Even though she was only eight (and a half), she knew that she would be the death of them both. Mama needed to keep out of cities; bad people lived there. Faith had heard one of the refugees say that.

She knew that they meant bad people lived in this city, but they didn't want to upset her.

She hated it when people talked about her like she wasn't there. She had a heart condition - she wasn't deaf!

Dream Faith and Awake Faith as she liked to think them as, would often unhelpfully, analyse her dreams. This one was clearly unresolved guilt about what happened to- ' _Stop it.'_

Faith didn't need this now. Her subconscious was snarky enough as it was thank you.

Sounds.

Something whispering, fabric dragging on the ground.

The sense of being watched.

Spider-light touches.

This was new.

This hadn't happened eight years ago...Faith's subconscious was practically screaming at her for being such a deep sleeper.

Faith jolted awake when a heavy hand covered her mouth. Her eyes flew open, there was someone in the room with her!

Heart hammering, she struggled, trying to get away. The light from the moon wasn't bright enough for her to be able to identify who it was.

The man leaned over her and she shuddered when he wiped away one of the tears that were threatening.

Her rational brain had fled once it realised that it couldn't think it's way out of this. Her would be assaulter's attention drifted as he began to unbutton the handmedown shirt she slept in.

Feral Faith, the small part of her she tried to suppress, took control.

Faith went limp as if she had fainted and her attacker loosened his grip on her wrists. Faith took advantage and yanked her hand free. She grabbed the shiv she kept beneath her pillow and stabbed him hard, once, twice before her homemade blade broke.

As he recoiled, she wiggled out from under him and screamed.

Faith fell out of her little bed and slipped on the blood coating the floor; she tried to get to the door and swore when he grabbed her bare foot.

Faith kicked at him with her free foot and bared her teeth in grim satisfaction when he yelled in pain. The door to her room burst open and silhouetted in the light, like a brick shithouse angel, was Big Brother.

He ran into the room and physically ripped the man off of the girl before slamming him against the edge of her desk, again and again until he went limp.

Faith sobbed as she felt those huge canned ham hands gently pick her up off the floor and he held her against his chest.

Rational Faith was trying to make herself heard over the snarls of Feral Faith; _You are okay. You are safe. The bad man is probably dead, or at least suffering from broken bones and internal bleeding._

Whilst Rational Faith was often a pain in the rear, her logic was somewhat comforting.

"Faithy honey, it'll be okay."

Faith clung to her adoptive big brother and cried.

Jesse swore when he saw the blood on the floor. He made sure to kick the would-be rapist hard before dragging him out of Faith's room.

Jesse knew what was going to happen next, and he didn't want Faith to be anywhere near when her beloved 'big brother', Wayne, lost his temper.

"Come straight back once you've secured him and woken the others. I need someone I can trust to sit with Faith."

The burly leader seldom spoke, but when he did, everybody jumped to do his bidding.

By the time Jesse returned, Faith was wrapped up in another of her brother's old shirts and was sleeping fitfully on the shabby couch in her room.

Once Jesse had stepped into the room, Wayne stalked out. The lanky engineer almost felt sorry for the doomed man. Almost. The seldom-seen violent part of his own personality howled for justice, but he knew it would be done.

Faith was terrified, Big Brother had given her something to help her sleep.

Didn't he know it was the last thing she wanted to do!?

The imaginary parts of her a damaged psyche had created to keep her sane, were more agitated than usual.

In times of stress, her mind would always take her back to the same place. The familiarity of it all soothed her.

 _I was eight and in the hospital. This one still had a working generator, the quarantine zone had fallen and mama had taken the chance to sneak in. I needed more medicine; the last little doctor's office they had tried didn't have anything that would help her_.

_Child Faith was glad. The medicine tasted disgusting, like bitter, salty liquorice. Mama had found a computer in the nurses office, one that hadn't been looted yet. She used it to print a list of the medicines that would help._

_I had to wait in one of the rooms while she went to the dispensary. I remember sitting there for forever waiting for her to come back. I finished my book about Edgar Allen Poe and she still wasn't back._

_I think I must have fallen asleep because it was dark when mama came back. Her blonde hair was dirty and it looked like she had been crawling around in the dirt._

_She was the bravest mother ever. She told me to fill my teddy bear backpack with the bottles, some of them were tablets too. I hope they don't taste as nasty. From outside there were noises of the bad things, the monsters that used to be people._

_Mama made me crawl under the bed. She kissed me and told me to be brave until she came back. She promised that she would come back._

_She promised that we would go home to England and find daddy._

_She never came back_.

_I hid when I heard gunshots and more of the monsters. I didn't know what to do when somebody opened the door and came into the room. The monsters didn't know how to open doors._

_Mama would have said it was okay to come out if it was her. Big boots walked past the bed. Definitely not mama._

_I was hungry._

_The man walked past the other way, he had one of those trail mix bars the army had given us in the other place. They were nice. I decided to come out._

_Mama would be cross, but she should have kept her promises!_

_The man had almost gotten to the door when I came out. He was huge and square. I remember he pointed his gun at me. I think he thought I was a monster too. He looked sad. I'm glad he didn't shoot me._

'What are you doing here on your own?'

_I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything. The man with the gun came over._

_He asked me again, so I replied_ , 'I'm not allowed to speak to strangers.'

_He laughed, it was a nice sound. Mama hadn't laughed since the world ended and the monsters came._

'I'm hungry.'

_He laughed again and gave me one of the bars, mama was right; acting cute and as young as I looked really could save my life._

_The man said he would take care of me until we found her. I wondered why he would do this, mama had told me to be careful of men._

_I wasn't sure why - surely they were no more untrustworthy than women? As he carried me out of the hospital he told me about his little sister, the one the monsters ate. She looked just like me._

_I don't think mama is ever coming back. He told me the monsters had probably eaten her too._

Faith jolted awake with a quickly muffled sob. She wasn't proud of the way she had played on the way she had looked a good three years younger than her actual age of eight when she had been found.

She also knew if it had been anyone other than Big Brother, they probably would have shot her just for fun - they were not nice people.

She jumped when one of the shadows in the room moved.

"Don't panic, it's just me." Jesse turned the knob on the battery-powered lantern, "Wayne is going to be back soon. He's just uh..." Jesse trailed off and stood, before crouching beside Faith. "You know what he's like. He just needs to let off steam." He wanted to give the fragile girl a hug, but didn't think it was a good idea.

From outside they could hear the leader of the bandits yelling something. Jesse was glad it was muffled, but the following gunshots were not.

A few minutes later, Wayne came back. He was holding a backpack that was bulging with supplies. "Faithy, I need you to do something for me."

He knelt next to Jesse and stroked Faith's hair. "I need you to get dressed and pack what will fit into this bag. I can't keep you safe anymore Faithy. I need you to go to that other place, the one you and Jesse think I don't know about." He handed her a pistol, "Keep this and the knives. I know they would be lucky to have you. Dawn is coming and the men aren't happy that I've just shot one of them without hearing his side of events. I know the shitbag deserved it, but he had some equally shitty friends and I don't want you hurt."

Faith nodded. She felt numb; it was her 15th birthday today and she was being exiled from her home.

She supposed she should be grateful; the doctors had given her another year or two tops.

At least if she was away from here she didn't have to worry about Jesse and Big Brother being sad when she died.

She woodenly moved from her huddle and started to pull clothes out of the box she used as a makeshift wardrobe.

Wayne pulled Jesse outside and gave him a whispered instruction to get her out of town and make sure she made it to the fishing boat.


	7. Faith keeps trying

Faith swore long and hard as she waded back to shore. Who knew tidal surges were so unpredictable? Another boat lost and another strike for her theory she was either cursed, or a shitty sailor.

It was a full month since she left her 'apocalypse family' and she hadn't given up hope of finding her way back to her actual family by any means necessary.

So far, things had definitely not progressed well since she'd lost her pet engineer. At least it wasn't raining today.

Faith spotted a familiar blue hulled wreck and decided to see if the sunny ledge was still in a useable condition. Much more wary now that she was truly alone, Faith took no chances and took a full ten minutes to cover the few dozen yards.

Happy and convinced that there were no Infected in the immediate area, Faith stripped down to her undershirt and repurposed boxer shorts; and spread out her clothes and belongings to dry in the sun. The sound of footsteps from behind her made Faith jump. "Fuckit!" She scrabbled for her handgun and turned to face the threat.

A familiar face popped over the edge of the precipice. "Hello."

"Ish!"

A second man, one Faith didn't recognise appeared a split second later and drew his own weapon.

Ish quickly dropped the blue bucket he had been holding and stood between the two twitchy and armed strangers. "Kyle; calm down. This is Faith. She's an old friend."

He turned to the wild-eyed girl, "Faith. This blond ox is Kyle. Now everybody put down the boomsticks and let's go inside."

Kyle reluctantly lowered his own, significantly larger handgun, "Ish; I really don't think it's a good idea to invite a stranger into our home. You know; especially after how hard we worked to keep this place safe." He glared at the half-dressed girl, who matched him evil look for evil look.

"Don't worry Kai, she's one of us." Ish reached out and ruffled her now short brown hair, "Besides, I've always said you need a little Faith."

Faith groaned. "That was poor Barnabus. You can do better."

Kyle snorted, "No he can't."


	8. Collectible: Trading Note

_Yesterday I met with some people who did not want to shoot me on sight._

_Shocking, I know._

_We traded some supplies and went on our merry way. They had kids with them and they seemed pretty scared._

_I almost told them about this place._

_What if they're like the others?_

_What if... You know what? I don't care._

_What's the point of surviving if you don't have someone to laugh at your lame jokes?_

_Tomorrow, I'm going to search for them._

_See if they want to join me in here. — Ish_


End file.
